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Apr 2014
you were alway the one striving for perfection
perfectly imperfect;
to me at least.
the perfectly straight lines
on your legs
told me you thought otherwise.
I finally understand.
you were snow,
        fresh from the clouds
                  uncorrupted by the city streets
the innocent snowflake
that in the end of its life
has only just seen the beginning.
Written by
casey
415
   --- and Julia
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